


Positive

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fem!Watson - Freeform, Fluff, Fluffy, Genderbending, Implied Sexual Content, Implied pregnancy sex, M/M, Pregnancy, Probably ooc, Unplanned Pregnancy, but it's so fluffy i don't care, everyone is in love, it's cute, the pub
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/820162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joan stared down at the little white stick before her, the thick lines of the plus sign making the symbol unmistakable. Positive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. So. Hello again. It's been a while. 
> 
> So....I had an idea for a fic...and I have another that's quite long coming up....OK OK I'LL UPDATE THE OTHERS SOON I PROMISE!
> 
> Yeah, sorry about that....I've had exams and have three left...I only had time to write this because it's a holiday
> 
> It's most likely very OOC but it's so fluffy idgaf...also, I only genderbent becasue I don't like mpreg and wanted a pregnancy story....
> 
> Sorry about any mistakes!  
> I hope you enjoy!

Joan stared down at the little white stick before her, the thick lines of the plus sign making the symbol unmistakable. Positive.

She slouched back onto the wall, feet out in front of her and arms flaccid at her sides, taking deep breaths. _Positive._

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, and then a little louder, “Shit!”

After a few more deep breaths she stood, tossing the cursed stick into the bin by the sink and scowling, and made her way to the kitchen. Just looking around the flat Joan could see this was a bad idea, how could they have been so _stupid,_ she was a doctor god damn it.

Flicking the kettle on to boil, she ran a shaky hand through her hair, wondering how Sherlock would react to this. He wouldn’t react well, not at all. Oh god what would he _do?_

The flat was no place for an adult human being, never mind a child, and Joan doubted Sherlock would relinquish his experiments for anyone. What did he even think of children, anyway? Surely he’d love the child, since it was his own, wouldn’t he?

Deciding to get some advice from someone before she told Sherlock, she sent a quick text to Greg.

**Hey Greg, can you meet me at the pub in thirty? I need to talk to you. JW**

**_Sure, is everything alright? GL_ **

**Yes, nothing too serious. I just need some advice about Sherlock. JW**

**_About Sherlock? What’s he done now? GL_ **

**I’ll explain when I see you. JW**

**_Right. See you there then! GL_ **

Gregory Lestrade had become a good friend over the years, especially during ‘the fall’ (where she forgave him quickly for arresting Sherlock), and offered her some normality in a life with Sherlock Holmes as her partner. He understood being in love with a Holmes, since he was currently in some sort of not-quite-boyfriends-but-may-as-well-be with Mycroft. At least they were in almost the same boat.

Grabbing her purse and coat, Joan slipped her shoes on and out of the door. She walked to their usual pub to give her a chance to think of how to word her confession to Greg, although was still feeling tongue-tied when she arrived. The DI wasn’t there yet but she didn’t mind, simply sitting at the bar and fiddling with the beer mat in front of her.

She heard the door open and spotted a rather breathless Greg bustling into the pub. He caught Joan’s eye and smiled, walking over to the bar and sliding onto the stool next to her.

“Hey mate,” He groaned, “Christ, I’m parched! Mind if we order before we talk?”

Joan smiled, “Yeah sure, I’m pretty thirsty myself.”

Greg signalled the bar tender over, “Two beers, please,” he looked to Joan, “On me.”

“Actually, can I just have some water? I don’t really feel like beer today.”

He looked at her curiously, but nodded, “Sure, whatever you want.”

They thanked the bartender as he slid them their drinks, settled back as they took the first sips.

 “So,” the detective began, “What’s this about Sherlock?”

Joan sighed, “Well I...we... it’s....you know how we are...and we, well...”

“Jesus,” Greg interrupted, “Just take a deep breath and spit it all out.”

She did just that, breathing in deeply before rushing her words, “I’m pregnant.”

Greg choked on his beer, “What!?”

“I’m pregnant. Having a baby. Bun in the oven. Up the duff. Gravid-“

“Yes, yes, I get it!” Greg stood up and leaned over to hug her tightly, “Congratulations! I better be Uncle Greg!”

“Alright, you can be Uncle Greg.” She grinned as he sat back down.

“How far along are you?”

“Three weeks...it was the dollhouse case...where I found the missing doll. He liked that...” she smirked.

“Right. Er, too much information there.” Greg scrunched up his face.

“Sorry,” she had the decency to blush.

He changed the subject quickly, “Have you thought of any names? How about Greg for a boy? Name him after me!”

“I’m not calling him Greg!” she laughed, “And no, I’ve not thought of any names.”

Greg was beaming, “Just...wow. How did Sherlock take it?” suddenly his expression changed, “Oh god, he didn’t run out did he? That’s not why you’re here, is it?”

Joan looked at him sheepishly, “Actually, I haven’t told him yet.”

“What? Joan!” he reprimanded, “Why are you here with me then? You have to tell him...unless...oh God, it is his, right?”

She scowled, “Of course it is! Who do you take me for, Greg?”

“Sorry, sorry...just jumping to conclusions here.”

“It’s fine,” she sighed and ran a hand through her hair, “I haven’t told him because I don’t know how he’ll take it.”

“Joan! He loves you, he’ll the thrilled!”

“Yeah, he loves me but... this baby... I’m not sure he won’t see it as a burden. I mean, I’d have to give up cases, or restrict them at the least. He’d have to cut back on his experiments and learn to help up around the flat and I just... I just don’t know that he would.”

“Joan Hannah Watson, I have never heard anything so ridiculous in my entire life.” He scolded, “Everyone has to compromise when they have children, and just because he has to ‘tidy up a bit more’ doesn’t mean he’s going to feel anything but unconditional love for it!”

“I suppose so...” she replied, not fully convinced, “But-”

“That’s it, I’m calling Mycroft.” He interrupted, pulling out his phone.

Joan sat up, turning to face him, “What? Why?”

“Because he has known Sherlock all his life and, while they might not get on like they used to, he knows Sherlock like nobody else, well, except maybe for you.”

“Greg, please, I don’t need Mycroft.”

“Just, please, listen to what he has to say. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t have a bit more confidence if you heard what he thinks.”

She grumbled something unintelligible, but ultimately agreed, “Fine. Just...fine.”

“Good,” he answered as he pressed the call button.

“Hey My,” he began softly, “Joan has something she needs your help with, could you come to the pub and talk?”

_“I’d love to help, Gregory, but I have a meeting in ten minutes.”_

“Oh, well...could you reschedule it? Or just talk now...?”

_“I really don’t know if I can, Gregory, I’m so sorry.”_

“It’s just...Joan’s....Sherlock has gotten Joan pregnant. And she doesn’t how he’ll react...”

“...”

“Mycroft? Are you alright?”

“...”

“My?”

“ _...I’m going to be an Uncle?”_

He voiced sounded choked, and Greg smiled widely, “Yeah, you are. I’ll be Uncle Greg and you’ll be Uncle Mycroft. Isn’t it brilliant?”

“ _I...Just give me one moment, Gregory my dear,”_

“Ok, My.” His heart fluttered at the endearment.

Greg looked across to Joan with a huge grin. She shook her head at him and smirked, “So, is _My_ coming then?”

“Shut up,” Greg flushed.

“Aw, Greggie in love!” She began laughing as his face grew redder.

“Joan, really, I know you’re pregnant but I will hit you!”

“ _Gregory?”_

He looked back at the phone, “Shit! Er, Mycroft, yeah?”

“ _Why are you threatening to hit Joan?”_

“Oh, er, she’s just something she said.” He tried, mouthing ‘I hate you’ afterwards, making her snort.

“ _Ah, I see...well, I’ve managed to rearrange the meeting, I should be at the ‘pub’ in a few minutes.”_

 _“_ Mycroft, you are brilliant.”

_“As are you, my dear. I’ll be with you shortly.”_

“Well, I’ll see you soon, bye love!”

And with that Greg hung up, pausing in horror once he realised the slip up he’d made, “Shit. SHIT!”

“What?” Joan asked worriedly, “What’s wrong?”

“I...I called him love.”  He put his head in his hands.

“...And?” 

“Well, he doesn’t know I’m bloody in love with him, does he?” Greg snapped, “He fucking does now though. Oh god I’m an idiot.”

“Greg. You already call him ‘My’ or ‘Myc’ and he calls you ‘dear’. All you have to do is get shagging.”

“He doesn’t call me dear like that! He calls me it like...like... like he would his mother!”

Joan snorted, “If he treats his mother like he treats you I’d really begin to worry!”

“Look, Joan, it’s not funny-” but he stopped with a faint yelp as the door opened, his face flushing bright red.

Mycroft Holmes walked toward the pair with happy eyes, even though no smile was clear on his face. He did, however, smile briefly at Greg before turning to Joan and, amazingly, kissing her on the cheek.

“Joan, so good to see you. I offer my innermost congratulations on the new addition.”

“Hello, Mycroft.” She replied, gesturing him to sit, which he did so next to Greg, “I feel off balance with you here and Sherlock not. I feel like you’re owed an insult.”

“If it makes you feel more comfortable, insult away.”

“Na, I’m alright for now. What I really need, though, is help.”

“Gregory has already briefly informed me of the predicament. How I may be of service?”

“Well, you’ve known Sherlock all his life... how do you think he’ll feel? About the baby, I mean.”

“Do you remember me asking you what we can deduce about Sherlock’s heart?”

“Ah, after the Adler case, yes.” it was a bit of a touchy subject for Joan; Irene seemed to have really captured Sherlock’s heart, and it came at a time that Joan had thought that she and Sherlock were getting close to more-than-friends.

“I myself find it impossible to deduce my brother’s heart. I can deduce almost anything, but Sherlock’s heart eludes me.”

“So....you can’t help?” Joan dejectedly replied.

“Not exactly,” the elder Holmes smiled slightly, “ _You,_ Joan, can deduce his heart. Previously I thought him incapable of love, yet here you are. You know him better than I do, at least in these matters. You may doubt that he would change for the child, but think about all he has done for you, all he has changed for you since you have met. Surely he would do the same for his own child? Has he not stopped the violin at 3am? Has he not stopped shooting the walls when he’s bored? Has he not stopped waking you at all hours for cases? What has he told everyone he holds most dear? The work of course! Yet has he not refused cases on your anniversaries? On your birthday, when you are sick?  What does that tell you about his heart, and who it belongs to?”

Joan stood up from the stool, “I am an idiot! An actual idiot! Of course he’d change! I should have never doubted him for a moment.” she grabbed her coat, kissed Mycroft and Greg on the cheek and ran out of the pub to 221B.

“A job well done, if I do say so myself,” Mycroft turned to Greg, “How are you today, my dear.”

“Fine, good...I’m good,” Greg replied, his cheeks pink, “I was going to leave when Joan did, but that didn’t work out...”

“How about I give you a ride home, Detective Inspector?”

“I’d like that,” he smiled, downing the last of his beer and standing.

They walked out of the pub together, Greg beaming as he felt Mycroft’s hand on the small of his back.

**OoOoOoO**

“Ah Joan,” Sherlock drawled, “Have a nice night with Lestrade?”

“Sherlock-”

“Hold on...is that Mycroft’s aftershave?” his eyes narrowed, “Why were you out with my brother?”

“I have something important to tell you!”

“Unless Lestrade has become intimate with my brother and was wearing his cologne.”

“Really, Sherlock, this is important.”

“Although if they had become intimate you would have informed me and I have not noticed any changes in Lestrade at crime scenes, so it is highly improbable that they have done so.”

“Sherlock Holmes!” Joan finally yelled, “Sit down and shut up!”

Sherlock looked startled, and moved to sit on the sofa, staring at Joan the whole time.

“Now, will you please listen to me?”

He nodded.

“Good.” She took a deep breath, “I have important news. About us.”

At first Sherlock looked confused, but then his face became stoic, “I see. I’ll have my belongings out by the morning.”

“What are you own about?” 

“Our breakup.”

Joan opened her mouth to reply, but found she couldn’t find words. Her leg flashed in pain for the first time since Sherlock returned and she stumbled back into her chair. She felt tears in her eyes, “Our breakup?”

“Yes.”

“Why....we...we don’t have to break up! I can...I can deal with it. We’ll... I...” she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore and started to sob, “I can’t get rid of it, Sherlock! But I...you...I love you!”

“Then I... I am confused.”

“Why?” Joan asked sniffing, confusion washing over her too.

“If you are breaking up with me then why are you so upset? You know I love you, and you just declared you love for me, I do not understand.” He tilted his head and looked at her, “I don’t like it when you cry.”

“I...what?” She blinked at him, wiping away her tears “I thought you were breaking up with me...?”

“Was that not your important news? About me and you?”

“What? No! No, of course not!” she looked at him again, and then started to laugh, “Is that what you thought? No, no! Oh god, we’re right idiots.”

Sherlock stood up abruptly and sat on her lap in her chair, careful not to crush her, even though he weighed very little, “I did not wish to make you cry.”

“It’s alright, love.” Joan smiled up at him, and he leaned down to kiss her.

They kissed sweetly for a while before if became more passionate, and Joan could feel Sherlock’s arousal press into her abdomen as he moved to straddle her and she suddenly remembered how all this began. She pulled back from him and he looked down at her pouting.

“No sex?” he pouted, giving her his best puppy dog eyes.

She pecked him on the lips and chuckled, “Not yet, love, I’ve still got to tell you my news.”

“Ah, that.”

“Yes.” she looked down at her hands and took a deep breath, “Sherlock...”

She looked up to see him staring at her with the most earnest expression she’d ever seen on his face.  Joan reached up and stroked his cheek, making his eyes fluttered closed, before she gathered up the courage to speak, “Sherlock, I’m pregnant.”

His eyes flew open and he looked from Joan to her belly several times before throwing himself off of her and backing up against the wall.

Joan’s smile dropped and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, “Sherlock...? Please say something.”

“I...you...” he pointed at Joan.

“Yes?” she swallowed.

“You let me crush your lap when there’s our child in you, are you mad!?” Sherlock yelled accusingly, “Anything could have happened! And you were at the pub earlier!”

Joan had never felt so relieved in her life. Sherlock cared and was manic at the thought that the baby was hurt. Thank God. The doctor stood up and approached her partner with a smile, “Sherlock, you were only sitting on my legs, its fine. And do you really think I was drinking at the pub? When I’m taking care of our baby?”

She placed her hand on her belly subconsciously and beamed at Sherlock, pressing a kiss to his lips. He reciprocated gently, bringing his hand down to cover Joan’s own on her abdomen.

This time he was the one who pulled back and stroked her hair, “Think of what we can teach it! I can teach it to deduce and how to use the chemical equipment or how to annoy Mycroft-”

“Sherlock...”

“Or I could deduce the key features of the child! It’ll be easy enough to work out the percentage probability of the dominant genes for height, eye colour, hair colour-“

“Sherlock!”

“Bit not good?”

“You will not teach it to insult Uncle Mycroft!”

Sherlock paled, “ _Uncle_ Mycroft? How repulsive!”

“Well, there’ll be Uncle Greg too.”

“No, please stop! He’s not even related to us!”

“I imagine Mycroft will deal with that eventually.”

“I do not want such vulgar images in my mind, Joan.”

“Well....” she smile coyly at him, “I’m sure there’s something we can do to distract ourselves...”

Sherlock looked scandalised, “Joan, you’re pregnant!”

“And?” she pulled him closer, resting her hands on his hips.

“We can’t have sex while you’re pregnant! What about the baby?”

“Sherlock, it’s barely even a baby yet. I’m only 3 weeks along.” She said sternly, “And I better get sex, Sherlock Holmes. Great sex! I expect great sex up until I physically cannot have sex.”

“But-”

“No buts Sherlock! I’m a doctor, the baby will be fine.”

Sherlock let out a long suffered sigh, “Fine.”

Despite his tone, he eagerly, but gently, pulled Joan into the bedroom, laying her back on the bed and peppering her with kisses.

**OoOoOoO**

“You’re going to have to child proof the flat, you know.”

“But Joan!”

“Nope. The flat is barely habitable for adults, never mind a baby!”

Sherlock remained silent, his head resting on her stomach, stroking her side. His eyes closed at the feeling of Joan’s hands running through his hair, and lightly kissed her skin.

“You don’t have to do much, you know. Just keep stuff out of reach; acid in the top cupboards, lungs in the organ fridge, and beakers at the back of the bench.”

“Hmm, what about cases?”

“Well, I won’t be able to take as many with you, obviously.”

Sherlock groaned, “But I _need_ you Joan!”

She chuckled, “If there’s a case you really, really need me for, then I’m sure Mrs Hudson will look after the baby.”

“That is moderately acceptable.”

“It’s the best we can do, love.”

He only grumbled in reply.

“You know I love you and love coming on cases with you...I’m just as frustrated as you are. Well, maybe a little less...but it still stands!”

“Love you too,” he mumbled grumpily into her stomach.

Joan guided Sherlock up to lie next to her and nuzzled her face in his neck, “I know you do....now shut up and cuddle me!”

**OoOoOoO**

“Gregory?” Mycroft asked into the silence of the car, just as it was approaching Greg’s flat.

 “Yes, My?”

“Would you like to have dinner at my flat? Tomorrow evening, if you’re available, of course.”

Greg stuttered around his words for a bit, “I...yes...I mean I’d love to.”

Mycroft smiled sweetly at him, “Wonderful! I’ll text you the details, if that is sufficient. Oh, and we’re here, dear.”

“Right...er, thank you for the lift, I loved the company,” he said as he opened the door, standing and facing the Mycroft, waiting for something he wasn’t sure was coming.

But then Mycroft leaned up and placed a light kiss on his cheek, lingering there for a second before pulling back with a nervous smile, “Goodnight, love.”

Greg didn’t remember closing the car door, still in a daze about the kiss. It was only when he was unlocking his front door that he registered that Mycroft had called him ‘love’.

He didn’t think he’d smiled wider in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

“Sherlock!” Joan yelled angrily, “Why are there fingers in the butter?”

“Experiment.”

“Don’t give me that, you bastard; all I wanted was some god damn toast and the butter is fucking decimated!”

“Well have jam then.” He replied petulantly, “You don’t even like butter.”

“No, Sherlock, I will not just have jam. You will go to the shop and get me some god damn butter or else!”

“Joan,” he whined, shooting her an irritated glare, “Ah, I see, _cravings._ One of those stupid pregnancy things.”

“Excuse me?” she asked sharply.

“I said it’s your cravings. Perfectly normal for 12 weeks, although they have increased since you’ve had the ultrasound. Probably a psychological response.”

“Sherlock, if you want to live to see the birth of your child I suggest you go to the shop and get me some butter.” Joan said calmly, in the tone that Sherlock had become rather terrified of in the last few weeks.

“Right.” Was his only reply before he jumped up and grabbed his coat. He was halfway out the door when he heard Joan cough pointedly, and poked his head back in, “Yes?”

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Are you just going to leave?”

“...yes?” he replied slowly, but one look at her had him changing his mind, “No?”

“Damn right you’re not.”

Sherlock studied her quickly, trying to work out what she meant before she grew impatient, “...goodbye?”

“For fucks sake, never mind.” She turned her back to him and started to fiddle about with the kettle.

“Joan I-“

“Just go get the butter.”

He hesitated, but eventually left the flat, still rather confused. What could she have possibly wanted? She had been almost impossible to deduce since her hormones had began messing with her normal temperament. At times she was incredibly affectionate, always wanting intimacy, and at others she pushed him away like he was covered in sewage. He couldn’t tell if she wanted to kiss him or to hit him.

“Oh. OH!” he exclaimed, just as he was leaving Baker Street. He hurried back to the flat, bursting in and finding Joan sitting morosely on the sofa with a cup of tea.

“You’re not supposed to have too much tea, you know.”

“Of course I know,” she snapped, “I’m a doctor.”

Sherlock went to sit beside her and pecked her cheek, “Is that what you wanted before?”

“That was pathetic.”

“Alright then,” he leaned in and kissed her soundly on the lips, “Goodbye, love, I will miss you while I am at the shop.”

“Now you’re being a sarcastic brute.” She smiled, “But yes, thank you. I love you.”

He kissed her once more, “I love you too. Now, the butter!”

This time when he left Joan was smiling fondly at him and Sherlock didn’t feel so lost in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I have never been pregnant myself so I am relying on random mum websites so I hope nothing is too wrong


End file.
